Tales from the Kitchen
by SecretFruits
Summary: Drabbles, vignettes, and other short pieces about the lives led by various House Elves. Are they happy? Rebellious, like Dobby? Something else entirely? Piece 1: Winky the day after the Battle of Hogwarts. Piece 2: Winky copes with her dismissal.
1. A Night of Winky

Written For:

Hogwarts Houses Competition: Round 5.

\- Gryffindor

\- Themed piece: Discovery

\- Underestimated Character: Winky

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Assignment #2

\- Gryffindor

\- Class: Home Economics and Domestic Magic

\- Prompt: Write about a house-elf working at Hogwarts

September Back to School Challenge:

\- Quote: "I didn't even know that you were sexually active"

Word Count: 669

Thanks to AJ and CK for beta'ing.

* * *

"The Dark Lord has been defeated!"

Outside, there is cheering. Bottles pop open. Something exploding - it sounds like fireworks. A girl is gasping and laughing. Sometimes there's sobbing and sometimes there's celebration and sometimes it's both.

But inside? There is no time to waste. No time to be sad, or happy, or relieved, or tired, or anything at all. Not that Winky wants to be any of that. It's not even as if people underestimate Winky, because _she knows_ she's nothing.

All Winky wants is to find Dobby.

Sometimes an elf _will_ start sobbing, which means it's time for that elf to knead the bread. Cry into the bread and it comes out soft and tender. Winky has done that sometimes. She would cry for Mistress Crouch and feed the soft bread to Master Barty. He loved that bread. He would eat it and smile and for a few moments he was free.

 _Free._ Winky has pondered and pondered what that word means. It was something Dobby discovered, and so did Master Barty, and all the other Masters and Mistresses. Or maybe they just knew. Is it something she wants? Once, long ago, she knew the answer.

Now it's only Dobby who cares for her. Dobby. The elf who wears clothes and is payed wages and calls himself _free._

 _Fight for Master Regulus! Defender of House Elves!_

Whoever Master Regulus was, Kreacher loved him, and Winky can understand that. He's taken to his work with a new kind of happiness. Winky can understand that, too.

She was drunk during the battle. She slipped on her own butterbeer and fell into some scary man with an evil tattoo. That tattoo stole Master Barty from her.

Winky is drunk right now too. She vomits, and is hurled to the back room, behind the kitchens. Can't have that smell in Masters' food. But Dobby will take care of her!

Where is Dobby? Winky has been waiting for days. Where is her Dobby? She fights of the nausea, and the sleep. She needs to find Dobby.

She leaves the kitchen, finds a group in red and gold. Maybe Harry is there. Or the strange ugly girl. Or that other boy. Maybe they will help Winky.

"Masters…"

Winky's voice trails off. She is nauseous and can't think straight. What is she doing, talking to Masters? She should be ashamed.

 _Dobby wouldn't have been ashamed._

One of them looks at her, and not kindly. "What do you _want,_ Elf?"

"Winky...Masters, Winky is wondering...where is her Dobby?"

The group starts laughing. There's almost something maniacal to it. Winky is reminded of Master Barty before that terrible Fudge….

The same boy responds first. " _Your_ Dobby? What in Merlin's name is a Dobby?"

"I didn't even know you were sexually active!" A girl with a broken look in her eyes spits this at Winky. Winky thinks she vaguely recognizes this girl. " _Your kind,_ I mean. Can elves even _do_ that?"

"Maybe _her Dobby_ is a dildo!"

They fall on each other, laughing.

Then she sees them. The three that might help her. They look as shattered as she feels, hair matted with sweat and dirt, the ugly girl and the redhead holding Harry up.

"Master Harry!"

The three look at her. Only the redheaded boy manages to smile. "Hi, Winky."

"Masters! Winky is wondering. Where is her Dobby?"

Nobody speaks. Winky is acutely aware of her throbbing headache.

"Oh. Winky." The ugly girl's eyes fill with tears. "Winky. I'm - I'm so sorry…"

She knows what Harry will say. Winky is used to grief; grief has been her life for years. But this grief is different. This is a grief which racks her body, shakes it with sobs, fills it with pain. This is the loss of the one elf - _person_ \- who believed in her.

Now Winky will have to believe in herself. Because Dobby is dead, but everything he was, everything he _believed_ in, will have to live on.

And in that moment, Winky discovers strength.


	2. Dismissal

Written For:

The Houses Competition:

House: Gryffindor

Category: Themed

Prompt: Baking

Word Count: 528

Hogwarts Assignments:

Assignment #5: Career Advice

Task 1: Write about an individual who gets injured on the job

House: Gryffindor

* * *

With one hand, she pressed the picture to her chest. With the other, she beat the eggs. In another life she would have used magic. But that was too hard these days.

Maybe, deep in her heart, she knew he wasn't a nice man. But he'd never hit her. He'd never starved her or told her to hurt herself. He'd never thrown things at her or threatened to beat her. For her, that was enough. It was far more than her mother or grandmother had received.

And despite all of it, _she_ was the failure. Her mother and grandmother had lived out their days in that house, broken and battered, but doing what they loved. Doing what _she_ had loved. For _who_ she had loved.

She twisted her ear as hard as she could. She needed to punish herself. To hurt herself because her job was pain, and it was how she loved herself.

Pouring the eggs into the flour, she looked at the picture. It was all she had. All she'd been allowed. She could have taken anything she wanted, of course. But even then, even _now,_ having lost everything, she would never steal from him. And he'd known that.

He'd allowed her the picture to show how little he cared for it. How little he cared for _her._ She had loved him and he had thrown her out with a sock.

It was a picture of the entire family, eating cookies together in the parlor. It had been taken years ago - her mother was in it. She missed her mother. True, the woman had never paid her much attention (the menfolk were her primary concern) but she had been her _mother._

She'd taught her to fill her life with loving her Master. It was the only fulfillment Winky had ever known. The only fulfillment she had ever wanted. _All_ she wanted.

She cried into the dough as she kneaded. Then she banged her head into the oven.

Over and over again. Hoping it would somehow catch fire. "Bad Winky. _Bad Winky. Bad…"_

Gentle hands moved her away, leading her back to the counter. Dobby was kind that way. Winky avoided him because he was a Bad Elf, but she was no stranger to loving bad people. Only the Bad Elf cared for Winky. Winky supposed that made her a Bad Elf too.

" _You've done a bad job watching my son!"_ Master had said. He'd rarely spoken to her, except to criticize her. But he'd never called her _bad._

She'd thrown away the sock. Now she wished she'd kept it. She would hang onto any piece of him, forever. Moaning, she threw herself against the wall.

The other elves muttered to themselves. They knew Winky was a Bad Elf. They disapproved of Winky.

Winky cried harder. Dobby put his hand on hers. They cut the cookies.

 _Snowflakes._ Master Barty had loved the snow. _She'd_ loved the snow, because she loved Master Barty.

 _Broomsticks._ Master Barty had loved those too. So had Mistress. Once, long ago, she would cook and hear them laughing on the pitch.

 _Hearts._

She fell to the floor, uncaught by Dobby's hands, and sobbed.


End file.
